


Mercy No More

by Aces_and_Roses



Series: Bad Things, Coming to a Story Near You! [2]
Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: (sort of), Bad Things Happen Bingo, Established Relationship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kidnapping, Muzzles, azu and cel are there too but they barely talk so i'd feel bad tagging them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-28 17:09:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20429486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aces_and_Roses/pseuds/Aces_and_Roses
Summary: Zolf's got plenty of reasons to hate the Cult of Hades, but none are quite so compelling as what he was seeing in front of him right then.





	Mercy No More

**Author's Note:**

> For the BTHB prompt: a dragoned-out Hamid is muzzled and Zolf is furious at whoever did it?

The thing is, Zolf knew everyone else had plenty of reasons to hate the Cult of Hades. Completely understandable reasons; they kidnapped the people they cared most about, their actions led to them losing Grizzop and Sasha, along with a whole myriad of other reasons. And Zolf hated them for that too, but in a… distant sort of way. He didn’t experience it, and Feryn had been gone so long that sometimes it was a little difficult to remember what it would have felt like, to be scared for his life like that.

Zolf knew that he had more personal reasons to hate the Cult of Hades too, if their group's theories about the origins of this… epidemic are true. The same personal reasons as anyone living in the world these days. And he did hate them for it, how could he not?

But none of those things, not a single one, made him hate the Cult of Hades as much as what he was seeing in front of him right then.

Because there was Hamid, kneeling on the cold stone floor of the cell, visibly shaking, his breaths loud and rapid in the mostly-silent complex.

Because there was Hamid, hands - claws, at that moment - bound behind his back, brass scales creeping up his neck and face, drawing attention to the muzzle secured around the lower half of his head.

A godsdamn _ muzzle. _

Zolf was going to kill them.

He was going to kill every single member of the Cult of Hades that he could find, slowly and painfully. 

Starting with the man currently standing in front of Hamid’s stooped form, the rod in his hands buzzing quietly as he jabbed it toward Hamid, laughing as he flinched away.

Zolf was about to do just that - bust down the door, march into the room in front of them, and _ kill that godsdamn cultist _ \- but Azu grabbed his arm, shaking her head, and pointed to the door. Or, more specifically, to the obvious trigger on it, positioned in such a way that moving at all would set off whatever trap it’s connected to. Cel was standing close to the door, leaning down to examine the trigger with a confused look on their face, running a hand backward through their hair and muttering under their breath.

“Don’t know what kind of trigger this is; never seen it before. I don’t know how to disable it.” Cel glanced toward Zolf, their lips pressed into a thin line. “We can’t go in.”

“Well, we can’t just-” Zolf flinched at the sound of a muffled cry, shifting his gaze back to the magical window Cel had placed on the wall earlier to see that Hamid had fallen from his kneeling position while trying to evade the cultist’s taunting jabs. “We can’t just do nothing! We have to get him out!” There was another cry from Hamid, this one significantly more pained than the last, and Zolf resisted the urge to look; he knew what he would probably see, and he knew that if he did see it, there would be no force on the planet that could stop him from forcing his way into the room, trap or no. 

Cel backed off from the door, patting down their various pockets. “Well, I’ve got something here that might work. Could tunnel through the wall so we don’t have to use the door.”

“And how long would that take?” Zolf asked. 

Cel looked up, their expression slightly sheepish. “About ten minutes.”

Zolf shook his head sharply. “That’s too long. I’m not- I’m not leaving him there for _ ten minutes _.” He shrugged off the hand Azu still had on his shoulder, stalking toward the door. “No, I’ve got a better idea.” Loud thuds echoed through the room as Zolf pounded his fist on the door once, twice, three times before backing away again. Through the window, he saw the cultist startle, whipping his head toward the sound. Then he moved to the door, pressing something on the wall next to it before pushing it open.

Zolf was on him in an instant, grabbing his collar and using it to shove him against the wall next to the door before drawing back just far enough to put the tip of his glaive against his throat.

He was angry. He was _ so angry _ . He wanted to kill him _ slowly _ , _ painfully _, to make him suffer for what he’d done to Hamid, for what his whole damn cult had done to Hamid. But then he heard a whimper from beyond the door and, abruptly, killing the cultist didn’t seem all that important. Not when Hamid was on in the other room, scared and in pain. So, he gestured to Azu to keep the cultist under control and, as soon as she was ready, rushed into the cell.

Hamid was curled up on the floor, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, in as close to fetal position as he could be with his arms secured behind his back. He was still shaking violently, his breathing still harsh and pained and, as Zolf got closer, he noticed that the brassy scales he’d seen on his face and neck extended down his arms as well.

He looked… well, he looked like a dragon, or at the very least more dragon-y than Zolf had ever seen him before.

At the sound of Zolf’s footsteps, Hamid’s eyes snapped open, wide and panicked, glowing like molten gold instead of their usual deep brown. Zolf crouched down next to him, hands out in a non-threatening gesture. “Hey, Hamid,” he said quietly, trying to make his voice as soothing as possible, “it’s just me, Zolf. It’s okay, you’re okay.” He reached out slowly, intending to undo the muzzle where it was secured at the back of Hamid’s head, but Hamid scrambled backward, a whimper escaping him. Zolf backed off, his heart constricting at the noise, at the fear in Hamid’s golden eyes. “Okay, I won’t do that.” 

He adjusted his position, shifting so he was kneeling rather than crouching. “Alright, Hamid, I’m not going to do anything unless you tell me, okay. I promise.”

Now that Zolf wasn’t trying to get any closer, Hamid relaxed slightly. He started trying to push himself up to a sitting position, struggling due to the way his hands were secured, but succeeding nonetheless. Zolf watched, making no move toward him, and noticed that the scales were receding as the minutes passed, his irises returning to their usual deep brown as the panic in his eyes faded. By the time he was sitting up fully, Hamid looked significantly more himself. He looked at Zolf, shrugging his shoulders in a way that made it clear he was trying to gesture to his bound hands.

“You’re sure?” Zolf asked, and Hamid nodded. So Zolf shuffled over until he was behind him and undid the ropes holding his arms in place. Hamid made a noise as he did so, a hybrid of relief and pain as he could finally move his arms again, shaking them out as soon as Zolf freed them. Then he reached up to try to remove the muzzle, only to drop his arms again with a groan. “You want me to take care of this too?” Hamid hummed an affirmative, and Zolf got to work undoing the straps holding it in place. After a few moments, it fell to the floor with a clatter.

Hamid took a deep breath, rubbing at the joint of his jaw for a second before he did his usual gesture, prestidigitating himself back to perfection. Then, he turned to look at Zolf. “Thank you,” he said, his voice so hoarse that had to Zolf suppress a sympathetic wince at the sound of it. 

Zolf stood and offered him a hand, which he accepted gratefully, pulling himself to his feet. Or at least, trying to. His legs gave out almost immediately, the muscles obviously protesting after having been stuck in one position for so long, and he collapsed. Zolf just barely managed to slide an arm around his back before he fell all the way to the floor, pulling him back to standing and holding him upright as he stretched out his legs gingerly, hissing quietly at the pain.

“Careful, there,” Zolf said, giving Hamid a reassuring smile. 

Hamid smiled back, winding one arm over Zolf’s shoulders so he could better support himself. “My hero,” he replied, in a tone that Zolf would have assumed was sarcastic, if not for his sincere expression. Then, much quieter, “What would I ever do without you?”

“Here’s hoping you never have to find out,” Zolf replied, equally hushed, before continuing at a normal volume. “Now, let’s get you out of here.” 

Zolf felt a little bad when he shifted Hamid off of him as soon as they exited the cell, especially when he spotted the hurt look on his face as Cel slid an arm around his back to support him. But Zolf had one more thing to do, before they left.

Because he was still angry.

He stalked over to where the Hades cultist cowered by the wall, pressing back against it like he was hoping it would swallow him whole. Azu backed off slightly, as Zolf approached, though not before giving the cultist a glare so threatening that he didn’t dare make a move when she did. 

Zolf punched him in the face, as hard as he possibly could, the blow landing with a satisfying thud and a pained grunt from the cultist.

And _ godsdamn _ did it feel good.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr at redactedquill if anyone wants to shoot me more BTHB prompts!


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